


you're my favorite

by ishka



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishka/pseuds/ishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few of the different ways Kisumi earns a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're my favorite

**Author's Note:**

> awful pointless fluuuuuuuuff i missed kisumi that's all

“Hey sexy.”

Kisumi cranes his head back over the top of the couch as Rin steps into the living room, down the small step and over to him. “Welcome home.”

“Hmm,” Rin hums happily, and stops to kiss him where his head is still bent back. “The rest of those losers just glare at me when I say that.”

“I like it,” Kisumi admits with a smile. 

“That’s why you’re my favorite.” 

He watches Rin round the couch and steadies his hips when he sinks onto Kisumi’s lap. “Haru doesn’t like superlatives.”

Rin winks. “We just won’t tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Haru calls crossing into the kitchen.

“That Kisumi’s my favorite.” Kisumi snorts and moves to embrace Rin around his waist.

“We all know that, Rin,” Haru answers as he passes back with a glass of water and disappears down the hall. Kisumi would be lying if he said the easy, loving exchange didn’t make his heartbeat quicken.

“He doesn’t even greet me,” Rin sighs dramatically, dipping to press his forehead to Kisumi’s. 

Kisumi moves his hands up to rub his thumbs behind Rin’s ears and lightly scritch along his hairline. Sometimes he feels like if it weren’t for Rin, Kisumi would never get any sort of casual affection fix. Especially not anything so well received, as Rin melts under his hands. The others tended to be closed off in that way.  _ “I’m _ greeting you. How was work?”

“Who cares,” Rin says lowly, pressing closer. “You know most of the time I sit there and write reports and think about you guys all day.”

“My hero,” Kisumi sighs wistfully. “Defender of the public.”

“You’d think some punks would remember that before they skipped their greeting.”

“You’d think,” Kisumi agrees, and cuts Rin’s lamentations off with his lips. 

Rin sits back on his lap with an easy smile so full of adoration that Kisumi looks away. Rin guides his face back to him with gentle fingertips on his chin. “What about you?”

Kisumi shrugs. “Morning shift, so I’m comatose for the day. I don’t think I’ve moved in the two hours since I got home.”

“Soooo spoon with me in the bed while it’s free?” Rin asks with a pout to convince him. Sousuke always takes it up for an hour when he gets home for a nap, but Kisumi knows if he lies down with Rin they’ll fall asleep, and end up rudely awakened by the post-work grump for it. No one dares to argue with Sousuke before he’s had his nap.

Kisumi pulls him back again with his hands still on either side of his head and speaks lowly. “I have a better idea, and it involves convincing Haru to pay attention to us, on  _ his _ damn bed.” 

Rin’s eyes light up and a lopsided grin cuts across his face. He bounds off towards Haru’s room, and Kisumi hears a loud sigh carry across the space followed by the  _ okay, okay  _ of acquiescence. He can force himself to move for that.

* * *

Kisumi’s been kicked to the edge of the bed to the point of rousing for the third damned time, and he’s downright sick of these six foot bulldozers for boyfriends for the night. Rin passed out on the couch just as he walked in after a stint of overtime, and Haru’s playing his ‘leave me alone’ card in the second room by himself, so really where is Kisumi supposed to go to sleep at one in the morning?

He stops by the bathroom to grab a quick drink of water from the sink and resigns himself to a futon on the floor. He hates when this happens, honestly, and it nearly makes him want to move out to lessen the burden. It’s no one’s fault, just that five people in a two-bedroom is still cramped, especially when one of the bedrooms goes off-limits, and well shit; he’ll always let Haru have his space first before himself. So maybe it’s for the better if he just goes and gets his own place nearby that’ll  _ always _ be available if he needs it.

His thoughts are interrupted when Haru stumbles in behind him and  _ into _ him, making him whip around. Haru blinks at him slowly and rubs his eyes, and Kisumi would think he were sleepwalking for how out of it he is if he didn’t talk.

“What’re’y’doin?” he slurs.

“Kicked out of bed again,” Kisumi grumbles.

“They’re so pushy,” Haru yawns, as he, of course, pushes Kisumi out of the way for the sink. 

Kisumi rolls his eyes and leaves the bathroom to get the futon from the hall closet to throw down on the floor of the living room. It’s sandwiched tightly among a mess of other things, and is yet another obstacle to be annoyed with. He lets out a frustrated groan and moves to throw his weight up and under the clutter so that the futon can be yanked out, but Haru emerges from the bathroom and places a hand on his elbow.

“Come on, Rin snores,” he offers, leading him into the second bedroom, the sawing ratchet from the couch following after them to demonstrate Haru’s point.

Haru crawls onto the bed and back under the comforter, scooching to the edge so Kisumi has half. Kisumi keeps his sigh of relief to himself, but it’s there just the same, and lowers onto the half given to him. He’s sure Haru’s pissed off about the coincidence of them being up at the same time, and probably felt guilted into offering Kisumi a spot, but then the weight shifts on the bed and Haru leans over him enough to brush his lips tenderly to Kisumi’s jawline before retreating again. 

“Just come in here if it happens again,” Haru says nearly inaudibly. “I don’t mind.”

“Y’sure?” he asks, tucking a newfound smile into his pillow.

There’s a stillness settling that tells him Haru’s already fallen back asleep.

* * *

 

“Okay, one more question: why ‘horse’?” Makoto asks with a crease on his brow.

“It’s just what it’s called, I dunno.” Kisumi bounces the basketball three times for good luck as he usually does. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

Kisumi’s at the three point line, and that’s probably unfair to Makoto who’s never played this game before, but the guy is scarily good at everything sporty so it isn’t in Kisumi’s interest to go easy on him if he wants to have a chance at winning. He shoots, the ball swishes the net.

“Oh wow,” Makoto remarks. “Well I’ll try.” He jogs over to the ball to retrieve it, and stands where Kisumi was, shoots, and misses. “Aww.”

“That’s ‘H’. Your turn.” 

Makoto steps off to the right but stays the same three-point distance. He ambles the ball up on the fingertips of his right hand and bounces a few times on his knees, then lets it go. It center-slaps the backboard and falls in.

“Dammit,” Kisumi laughs. “You’re good at everything.”

“Ah, sorry,” Makoto mumbles, looking off with a blush.

“It’s a compliment.” It’s Kisumi’s turn to match the shot, and he misses too. “‘H’ for me too. We’re even.”

Makoto misses the second shot and earns himself an ‘O’, while Kisumi makes his shot and pulls out ahead. “Hmm,” Makoto hums irritably. “Okay.” What that means, exactly, Kisumi is unsure of, but he knows that look in Makoto’s eye and also knows he’s in trouble.

Ten minutes later, it’s:

H-O-R

H-O-R-S

In Makoto’s favor. 

“Yikes,” Kisumi pouts. “Well go ahead, for the win.”

Makoto looks not in the  _ least _ apologetic, only determined, and dribbles the ball to the top of the key for a closer shot. Kisumi’s great at free-throws, and Makoto doesn’t know that, so he tries not to be too excited by the easier shot. Once again Makoto does his sort of cute knee-bouncing thing, shoots, and scores. 

Kisumi brings the ball to the spot, and Makoto’s bent with his hands on the tops of his thighs to watch. Kisumi feels more pressure to make this than when Hayato’s watching him, and it’s freaky. “You’re so intense,” he mutters.

“I want to win.”

Unlike his usual ritual, he holds his breath as he shoots instead of letting it go with the release of the ball. The ball rolls around the metal rim and falls in. “Phew.”

Makoto rebounds it for him, and passes it. Kisumi decides to take a long-shot from the side, since Makoto seems to excel at centered shots. He stands all the way to the right side of the court, and sinks it from the corner. Makoto takes his turn and bricks.

“Damn!”

Kisumi chuckles. “Scared now?”

Makoto shoots him a look. “I’ve raced Rin and won before; I’m not afraid.”

“Jeez, okay.” Next time Kisumi should bring Sousuke along to dampen Makoto’s competitive edge. He  _ sucks  _ at basketball and always makes Makoto laugh instead.

Maybe it’s just to psyche Kisumi out, but Makoto stands right on the free-throw line for his next shot and makes it easily. 

“That’s my best shot, you know,” Kisumi challenges.

Makoto makes a noise of disinterest and passes him the ball. Kisumi bounces three times, tunes Makoto’s glare out, lets it soar- and air balls.

“Oh,” Kisumi says in surprise as the ball crashes against the chainlink fence. “That’s ‘E’.” Makoto jumps excitably with a fist in the air and Kisumi shuffles over to the ball to get ready to leave, having been there to practice for a while before Makoto showed up to drive him home after work. Since they have a car, maybe they should stop and get food for everyone.

“Hey, you wanna- ah, whoa-” Kisumi starts and stops when he turns to Makoto on his last step into Kisumi’s space. Kisumi catches Makoto by his face to not be outdone or caught off guard, and Makoto kisses him hard while he backs him up until the fence catches them. Makoto pushes his hands up under Kisumi’s training jersey as he slides their tongues together, and massages his thigh lightly between Kisumi’s legs. Kisumi groans at the sudden all-over contact, forgetting where he is, aiming his teeth for Makoto’s bottom lip for a bite and a soothing suck. Makoto steps back after a moment and Kisumi grips the fence to catch his breath.

Makoto smiles and moves a piece of hair from Kisumi’s line of sight. “Always wanted to do that, with the fence thing.”

* * *

They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves, Kisumi insisted, and that only made Sousuke more of a nervous wreck. Kisumi knows he wanted all four of them to go with him to the banquet, but in the end it was only he and Rin who accompanied him so he could receive his award. Rin since he’s also on the force and had to go anyway, and Kisumi who can help Sousuke manage his occasional anxiousness pretty well, in his humble opinion. Haru and Makoto kissed him their congratulations and promised his favorite dinner when he got home.

Rin sits a few seats down with a scowl. It’s not worth the exposure that could potentially get them split up into different precincts. Not out of any sense of bigotry, just the frowned-upon fraternization in general. 

And maybe there’s a little of the other thing, too. At least Kisumi’s always been afraid of that, and lays off anything obvious when he finds himself around the other officers.

Sousuke’s been bouncing his knee faster and faster as the awards go out, knowing he’s the last to receive. The family he was involved with saving during a home invasion and hostage situation is sitting at the front, and his eyes keep darting to them.

“We’re super proud of you,” Kisumi whispers. 

“Hmm.”

“We’ll stay for one drink afterwards and leave, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Just look at me and Rin while you’re up there.”

And then he’s called, and goes stiff, and Kisumi pats him on the knee as the thunderous applause erupts in his honor.

The police chief sings his praises while Sousuke bores craters into Kisumi’s soul at the podium, occasionally flickering his gaze to Rin so it doesn’t look out of place. The family shakes his hand one by one, and his total full-body jitteriness would be adorable if Kisumi didn’t comiserate with how  _ nervous _ he knows Sousuke is right now. Rin catches Kisumi’s eye and he frowns, but Kisumi smiles in reassurance.

Sousuke’s dismissed with his medal, and takes his seat again quickly. He hunches slightly, clenched fists shaking out the last of his nervousness on his thighs. Kisumi reaches over and takes his hand despite his own hang-ups about doing so among so many of Sousuke’s coworkers. Sousuke stills and stares down at their hands, then to Kisumi, openly surprised.

“You looked great.”

“Promise?”

“Definitely.”

Sousuke sighs hard enough to slump, and brings Kisumi’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss across his knuckles. He beats back the urge to yank his hand away, and grips harder when Sousuke’s coworker leans across to introduce himself-

-and laughs quietly, relieved, when he ribs Sousuke for not bringing the others he’s been dying to meet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumbalalala](http://iskabee.tumblr.com)


End file.
